


Probably Should Have Closed the Door

by eratothemuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Embarrassment, F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Oral Sex, Smut, Stilinski!Reader, age gap, getting caught, not safe for work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 23:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Your affair with Chris Argent had been a cleverly kept secret... up until the moment you got caught.





	1. Getting Caught

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this imagine [Imagine being the Sheriff's daughter and Allison's friend and having a secret affair with Chris and being caught while you're having sex with Chris by your father] by [ImaginesTeenWolf] where the reader is Sheriff Stilinski’s daughter and he catches her and Chris Argent doing the do. Because I am trash. Kinky, Chris Argent trash.  
> \- Meg <3 xx

Chris caught you when you reached for the doorknob, “It’s late, let me give you a ride home.” The offer seemed innocent enough, but you knew Chris well enough to know better than that.

You couldn’t help the way the edge of your mouth twisted upwards as he shrugged on his jacket, raising his voice slightly, “I’m going to give (Y/N) a ride home. I’ll be back in a bit, Allison!”

“Okay, Dad! Goodnight, (Y/N),” Allison’s cheery voice sounded from her room, completely oblivious to Chris’ warm hand grazing the small of your back.

“See you tomorrow, Allison!” you called, pulling the bag around your shoulders a little tighter as Chris closed the door, locking it behind him.

Really, it wasn’t Allison’s fault that she was completely unaware as to what was going on between you and her father. You had gone to great pains to keep it that way. Even your father, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, had no clue of the secret affair that was happening right under his nose.

Honestly, that made it all the more exciting in your book.

Chris was good at keeping the secret, too. Much better than you, actually. While you would occasionally send a heated glance in his direction when Allison’s back was turned, he would never risk it. Always looking at you with such gentlemanlike chasteness that even you were sometimes convinced of his celibacy.

But when the two of you were alone,  _that_  was when things got heated.

And the way he was looking at you as he helped you into his SUV was the furthest thing from gentlemanlike. In fact, if you had to summarize in one word the way his blue irises slipped down the curve of your chest when he got into the driver’s seat, you would use _lecherous_.

You took one look around the car before you pounced. All lips and tongue and hands. Chris growls, a hand tangling in your hair as your own grip the collar of his shirt. His beard pricks against your chin but you can’t bring yourself to care, having missed the feel of him. It had been too long since you had last gotten the opportunity to kiss him.

When you pull away, you know the look in his eyes. The look that says how much he wants you right then. Right there. Right now. But Chris would never risk it right in front of his home.

And you already know the unspoken question between you, “Stiles is at Scott’s and Dad is working at the station.”

“Your place, then?” Chris swallows, deep voice fanning against your lips.

“My place.”

You lose track of time as he drives, never being without his touch. A hand on your thigh inches dangerously closer to the dip beneath your zipper with each rev of the engine. You lean into him, cursing the arm-rests that separate your bodies.

You can’t jump out of the car fast enough when he locks it into park. Scrambling into your bag for your keys, you walk around the SUV and towards the house. Chris’ arm slips around your waist, lips nipping at your ear. He was making it damn near impossible to keep your hands steady enough to unlock the front door, but you managed.

He pushes it open, and you’re against the wall before you know it. You hear the door slam as his hands slip up the hem of your shirt, tongue sliding down your bared neck. You push at his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders to land on the floor in an unimportant heap.

Clothes come off in pieces with each step he leads you towards your bedroom. He knew the way. Your hands fumble with his belt as he slams into the door leading to your room, your lips peppering across his exposed chest.

“We gonna make it to the bed or do you want me against the door?” he chuckles as you push his jeans from his hips, eyes snapping from his body to meet ice blue.

“Maybe for round two,” you breathed, reaching behind him for the doorknob, “if you can keep up with me.”

The two of you slip into the room, chuckles filling it as he slips his hands around your thighs. You yelp, gripping at his shoulders as he lifts you only to throw you back down on the bed. You bounce, coming up on your elbows just in time to see him kick away his boxers.

“Honey, I can take anything you can give,” Chris promised before crawling on the bed after you. He grabs for your hips, hooking his fingers into the edge of your panties and pulling down the last bit of clothing keeping you from his view. You instinctively try to close your legs, but his hand is there, wedged between your knees.

You feel your cheeks grow hotter as he coaxes your legs apart, kissing up your thighs as you settle into the messy sheets beneath you. His arms wrap around your thighs, tugging you towards him with a jolt.

“Chris,” you squeak as his kisses lead even closer to your center. Eyes gleaming with a sort of impish humor as he just continues onwards, beard scratching a trail between your legs. He kisses just above where you want him, causing an annoyed grunt to leave you as you glare down at him.

“Tease,” you accuse as he slips a hand from around your thigh to come between the two of you, barely grazing against your clit as his kisses begin to linger. Your breath catches in your throat when he finally covers your clit with his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you.

Chris’ finger slips along your folds and you can feel him grin at how wet you already are. He pushes it inside as he works his mouth around you, making you fist the sheets.

You’re lost in the feeling of his mouth against you, another finger joining the first. Desperate for friction, you attempt to shift your hips under him. The hand Chris has locked around your thigh keeps you from doing little more than squirming in his grasp.

“Ah!” you moan as his fingers curl gently inside you, pressing against you at a different angle, “C-Chris!” His own moan vibrates against you as you slip a hand from the sheets into his hair, tugging gently as he brings you to the peak. Stomach twisting in desire, you hear nothing but his name on your lips as you come undone beneath him. Arching into his touch, you know the grip he has on your thigh must be turning his knuckles white while you ride out your orgasm.

He slips his fingers from you as you catch your breath, brow shining with perspiration. You look through lidded eyes at him while he settles on his knees between your thighs, lips shimmering with your slickness. He takes his bottom lip into his mouth, biting his smirk as he pulls you into a kiss. You shift into his lap, the feel of his hard length pressing against your thigh.

Puffs of hot breath pass between you with each kiss. Still panting from your orgasm, you grind against his lap. Chris grunts, hands coming to grip your butt as your own reaches downwards.

“You want it?” you murmur, sliding him against you. Chris bucks in response, but before he can get out his answer, the door that was slightly ajar bursts open. You nearly scream, scrambling for the sheets as your father stands in the doorway, looking completely mortified as he holds what seem to be Chris’ jeans in his hand.

“What the hell is thi- GOOD LORD!” your father turns quickly, clinching his eyes shut as Chris pulls the sheet around you for what little coverage it provides. The Sheriff flings the pants towards the bed, missing it by a foot due to trying to keep his eyes closed as he claws for the door.

“Sheriff Stilinski-” Chris chokes, pulling you closer to his chest under the sheet you were sharing.

“Dad!” you scream, acutely aware of the humiliation that was seeping into your stomach, replacing the arousal that had once been there.

The Sheriff hurriedly slips into the hallway, voice sounding through the door as he shuts it behind him, “Put on some clothes before I kill you! Living room, NOW!”


	2. Explanation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 2 to Probably Should Have Closed the Door, requested by missunderzztood. I hope you like it! There’s no smut in this fic, just the Sheriff’s reaction to what happened in Part 1. I’m sorry if it sucks!

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you scrambled for some clothes, pulling them on hastily as Chris pulled up his pants. Tugging a shirt over your head, you slip on the sweatpants you’d found discarded in the corner of the room, “I am so dead. He’s going to kill me. This is the end of my life. My last moments.”

“You know, when you freak out, I can tell you’re Stiles’ sister,” you feel Chris’s hands come to your shoulders, pulling you into his bare chest, “Breathe, (Y/N). It’s not the end of the world. You’re an adult, and your father’s a level-headed man.”

“Yeah, keep thinking that while he’s probably downstairs putting bullets in his gun,” you turn to face him, taking a deep breath, “Chris, my dad just walked in on us having sex. Not only was that something I never wanted my dad to see, but I really don’t think he’s going to be too level-headed when we walk down those stairs.” You take a look at him, groaning as realization hits you, “Which is where your shirt is. At the bottom of the stairs.”

“Well, we can’t hide up here forever,” he sighs, rubbing your arms comfortingly as you grip your forehead with worry.

“We could sneak out the window,” you offer, making Chris chuckle. He shakes his head, a smirk creeping across his lips.

“(Y/N), this is the second floor, and the tree is outside Stiles’ window,” putting an arm around you, he pulls you towards the bedroom door, “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”

You let him lead you down the stairs, waiting patiently as he picks up his clothes when he reaches the bottom. Pulling his shirt over his head, he grips your arm reassuringly as you steel yourself outside the living room.

You find the Sheriff sitting on the couch, head in his hands as he rubs at his eyes tiredly, “Dad?”

“Don’t say anything,” he breathes, massaging his temples as he looks up at you. Unreadable eyes stopping on the hand you’re gripping for dear life before flicking up to Chris, “How long has this been going on?”

“Nearly two months,” Chris answers the question that had obviously been directed at him. The Sheriff sat back, taking a deep breath as his brow furrows in the way it usually would when he was about to scold his children.

“Dad-” you begin, moving a step forward only to be cut off again.

“Don’t,” he held up a finger as he pushed himself to his feet, advancing towards you and Chris in the room that seemed suddenly too small. A fist smacked into Chris’ jaw before you could stop him, making Chris stumble back as you yelped in surprise.

“Dad, stop!” you pushed on your father’s chest, making him back up while Chris rubbed his jaw, “It’s not his fault!”

“Not his fault? (Y/N) he is a grown man with a daughter not much younger than you,” the Sheriff snapped as you pushed him back a bit more, glaring at Chris.

“I’m an adult, Dad, I can be with him if I want. We’ve done nothing wrong,” you turn to Chris, moving to tilt his head to where you can get a good look at his jaw, “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had worse,” Chris murmurs, blue eyes shifting to watch the Sheriff’s movements. Your father didn’t move to hit him again, but it was clear by the look in his eyes that he wanted to.

“Do you love him, (Y/N)?” Sheriff Stilinski looks at you, lips set in a deep frown.

“I-I’m not sure,” you admit, “but I do know that I want to be with him, Dad. Just try to wrap your head around it, please?”

“Aw, hell,” he groans, running a hand down his face in exasperation, “did Stiles know about this?”

You look down, thinking of how you’d kept the secret from everyone, including your brother, “He didn’t know. No one else knows.”

“We didn’t know how everyone would react,” Chris’ hand comes to the small of your back, standing tall under your father’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Worried someone would punch you?” the Sheriff quips, making Chris chuckle.

“Something like that.”

“I don’t like it,” the Sheriff starts, making your heart drop in fear that he would tell Chris to get lost and never come back, “but that’s mainly because you kept it from me, (Y/N). You know I worry about you. You’re my kid. And, uh, if you hurt her, Argent,” he squints, pointing an accusing finger at the man by your side as he leaves the open threat.

“I won’t,” the edge of Chris’ mouth curls upwards as he looks down at you, “and if I did, I’m sure that she’d go after me herself.”

“Yeah, with all that combat training Allison’s been giving me, I’m sure I could hold my own against you,” you laugh, nudging Chris jokingly as the Sheriff crosses his arms over his chest.

He sighs, “Fine, but please, use protection.”

“Dad!” you screech, blush coating your face an equally as red a hue as your father’s had become, “That’s enough, thank you!” Gripping Chris’ hand, you pull him from the room quickly. A low laugh filled his chest when you stop at the front door.

“Come over tomorrow,” he bends, kissing your cheek as you hear the roar of Stiles’ Jeep pulling up outside, “and we’ll tell Allison about us.”

“So what exactly is ‘us’ now?” you ask, watching Chris pull on his coat.

“Well, since your dad knows, I suppose it’s only a matter of time before Stiles finds out. I’d like for Allison to hear me calling you my girlfriend from me instead of Scott,” you can’t help the smile that twists your lips, “Will you be there, tomorrow? Say, around six?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” accepting his offer, you pull him back into one last kiss before he walks out the door. Stiles walks up the driveway, sending Chris a confused look when they pass.

“What the heck was Chris Argent doing here?” your brother asks, pushing past you and into the house.

“Oh, nothing, just visiting his girlfriend,” you hear Stiles crash into something, but your eyes don’t leave Chris as he gets into his SUV.

“WHAT?”


	3. Allison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 3 of Probably Should Have Closed the Door where they tell Allison about their relationship. I was going to write smut in it, too, but I didn’t feel frisky enough, so all you get is fluff, sorry.

Chris fumbled with the stove, turning the heat down as the spaghetti nearly boiled over. Cursing under his breath as some steam singed his arm, he jerks back. A chuckle makes him turn, seeing Allison standing amusedly in the archway.

“So we’re having spaghetti tonight?” she asks, flipping her dark hair to the side as she slides the bag from her shoulder to sit on the countertop. “What’s the occasion?”

“I invited someone over for dinner,” Chris sighs, blue eyes sizing up his daughter for any negative reaction.

Allison’s brows rise as she leans back against the counter, “Woah, Dad, like a girlfriend? I didn’t even know you’d been seeing someone.” He worries for a moment, taking her hesitancy as apprehension before she continues, “That’s great, Dad. I’m glad you’re getting out there again. Is she anyone I know?”

Chris takes a deep breath, unable to help the grin that comes to his lips as your face pops into his head, “Yeah, you know her.”

“Well, are you going to keep me in suspense all night or should I start guessing?” Allison laughs, reaching over to help him put the food into serving dishes. Before Chris can answer, the door buzzes.

“Not all night, just until you open the door,” he laughs at her suspicious glance, before she turns and walks from the kitchen.

* * *

You fidgeted nervously outside the door. Had this really been a good idea? What if Allison was creeped out that you were dating her dad? I mean, yeah, you were older than her, but not by much!

Hell, you had had sleepovers with her before for Pete’s sake.

But Chris was right. She would find out sooner or later anyway. You just hoped it went better than when you had told Stiles last night. Your brother was never good at keeping his thoughts to himself, and had told you just how strange he thought the whole thing was.

Honestly, your dad had taken it better than Stiles had.

Stiles was better after he had slept on it, telling you the next morning he could live with it. He had also told you to be careful. You managed to get Stiles to promise not to say anything to anyone about it, not even to Scott.  _Especially_  not to Scott.

But when Allison opened the door, what little courage you had left cracked on the ground. Dark brown eyes studying you with confusion, it was clear she hadn’t expected you.

“Oh, (Y/N). What are you doing here? Did you forget something of yours from yesterday?” she asked, standing a bit out of your way in order for you to come into the Argent’s apartment.

“U-Uh, no,” you stammer, peering around the room for any sign of Chris. You hear a clatter in the kitchen, and you know that must be where he is, “I was invited for dinner.” Allison pauses, thoughts clicking in her head as she slowly realizes what is going on. She stands there, quiet for a good ten seconds as she processes the situation, and exactly what had been implied.

She’s only snapped out of it when Chris emerges from the kitchen, wiping what appeared to be sauce from his fingertips onto a towel, “You’re here just in time. Dinner’s ready.”

She addresses you as Chris dips back into the kitchen to grab the food, “Wait, so you and my Dad are together?”

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but I just didn’t know how you’d take it and-” Allison cuts off your worried whispers as she pulls you into a hug.

“Honestly, (Y/N), if there was anyone I had to pick for him, it would be you,” she sighs, tightening her grip as she squeezes you gently before pulling back, “Not that I’d ever thought this would actually happen, but I know you’ll be good for him. And it’s nice to see him happy with someone since Mom.”

“So you’re okay with this?” you search her eyes for a lie; for resentment or disgust. You find neither.

“Look, my Dad’s an adult. He can do what he wants. What I’m worried about is  _your_ dad. And Stiles? Have you told them yet?” Allison asks, as you see Chris moving plates towards the dining table in your peripheral vision.

“Actually, we told them last night,” you blush, omitting a few details that you’d rather Allison not know about her father. “My dad punched Chris.”

Allison’s hand comes to her mouth as she lets out a small chuckle, “No way! I’ve been wondering all day why he’s been rubbing his jaw. Guess now I know.” Looping her arm around yours, she begins leading you to the dining table, “Now, you’ve got a lot you need to fill me in on. I’d say ‘tell me everything’ but I don’t think I want to know  _everything_.”

You laugh, blush coating your cheeks as you take a look at the food sitting on the table, and the three place settings. Chris rounds the corner, setting down the last of the food as he sends you a cheeky grin.

“You totally left me in the wind to tell her it all, didn’t you?” you accuse, making Allison snort beside you as she grabs her cup.

“Looks like it,” she chuckles, picking up your cup as well, “What do you want to drink, (Y/N)? I’ll go get it for you.”

“Water is fine, thanks,” Allison nods at your request before leaving the room, “I can’t believe you chickened out on me, Chris. Thought you were supposed to be the Big Bad Hunter that wasn’t scared of anything.”

“I thought it would be less awkward coming from you rather than me. And the only thing I’m scared of,” Chris leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek as he wraps an arm around your waist, “is you when you’re hungry.”

“Well, I’m getting hungrier by the second with the way this food smells, so be very, very afraid.”


End file.
